Stories of Ylisse
by Korean Boron-Paper Stars
Summary: A series of tales about the Shepherds and their adventures amidst unending warfare, impending doom, and their bonds with one another.


Stories of Ylisse

A/N: I've had the most awful writer's block for several years running and no motivation to write anything at all. Time to change all that. This will be a collection of several stories featuring different tacticians and universes and situations, some that are interrelated and some that are not.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem or anything you may recognize in these stories.

!

She was at it _again._

"Tharja. What do you want now?"

"Oh, you're talking to me, Robin? What a delight! How can I help you?"

Robin was barely able to resist the urge to snap back at her and her innocent façade. "You've been following me around all day," he stated matter-of-factly. He would have to be blind to have not noticed. "Even when you run off to fight a foe, you come straight back to me."

"Is it so strange for me to want to be by your side every moment?" she replied, with that infuriating giggle that made him want to _punch_ something.

_Yes._ And even more so, considering the fact that both he and Tharja were married – _to other people._

Admittedly, "married" may not have been the best word to use to describe either of their situations. But Tharja had a fiancé, Stahl, who had proposed to her not long ago. And more importantly, she had _accepted_ his proposal, and therefore should be showering her husband-to-be with her attention instead. Robin, who merely treated most people with indifference, often still struggled to comprehend that his best friend Miriel, whom he only had the most platonic of feelings for, would eventually be his wife and that they would have two children together.

Children … time traveling children from the future. It was yet another matter that added to his recent stress and frustration. Robin had thought that the war against Plegia would be the end of their troubles. But then came word of Valm's intent to invade and conquer Ylisse, along with Ferox and Plegia. And as if that hadn't been enough to worry about, a messenger from the future, Chrom's daughter Lucina who was not the baby Chrom and his wife had left behind in the castle but a warrior from more than ten years hence, who had jumped into the past with her companions to avert a disastrous future – two of those companions claiming to be his and Miriel's son and daughter, and another the daughter of Stahl and Tharja.

With the help of the children whom they had encountered on the way, Chrom and his Shepherds had defeated the mighty conqueror Walhart and brought his reign to an end. And yet … their troubles were _still_ not over. Lucina's warning about the awakening of the fell dragon Grima loomed heavily over their heads. They were not in the clear yet.

He hadn't asked for this. Robin hadn't asked for any of this. He was grateful to Chrom for finding him in that field and giving him a job, make no mistake of that. But even with his memories gone, parts of his personality were still intact. He was a distant person by nature, constantly fighting against his social anxiety and struggling to merely approach and converse with the troops he was meant to lead and direct. Being the tactician of the Exalt did not provide a stress-free environment. The Shepherds themselves were a loud and boisterous bunch, often highly informal with one another and too many of them all too willing to get in his business when he didn't want them around. And Tharja was just the worst offender of them all.

Unlike Vaike, who simply had no "inside voice" and barely any humility, or Nowi, who looked and acted like a child for her thousand years of being alive (not that they were the _only_ Shepherds who drove him out of his mind), Tharja simply could not take "no" for an answer. She had been outright stalking him ever since Chrom had recruited her to fight for their cause back in Plegia – always following him around, always watching him when all he wanted was to be left alone.

Even after he had asked her directly to stop.

Even after Stahl had proposed to her and she had accepted.

Even after Laurent had claimed his parents to be Miriel and Robin.

Even after they had found Noire, who was unmistakably Stahl's daughter. No one else had his hair color.

Even after Morgan had all but confirmed that Robin would never get together with Tharja and that he would marry Miriel someday.

Anyone else would've been able to see that the future was not going in a direction that Tharja had hoped it would. But still, none of it deterred her.

And Robin was getting quite sick of it.

"Robin?" Tharja's voice pulled him from the solitude of his thoughts and back to their present situation. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"… What?" He eyed her warily. A wrenching feeling in his stomach told him that he would not like whatever favor she wanted from him.

"I want you to slather my body with oil," she said.

For a moment, he was at a complete loss for words. It felt like an eternity until he found his voice again. _"What?_ You can't – I don't even – _why would you even ask that?" _he sputtered.

"Well, you wouldn't want my skin to dry out in this heat now, would you?" She giggled. "And I can't reach my back and, you know … other places."

Robin almost snapped back at her that he couldn't care less about her skin, but he caught himself in time. "Why don't you ask one of the women to do it for you? Or even Stahl? He's your _fiancé."_ Robin made sure to emphasize the word, hard.

"No. I want you to do it," she retorted, sounding very much like a petulant child. "Otherwise, what's the point?"

Again, Robin found himself speechless for quite some time. "I'm leaving," he finally said and stormed off in a huff.

He heard Tharja call out to him but he ignored her and continued to put distance between them. She had some nerve to make such a request of him. Robin felt the slightest of sympathies for Stahl, whom he rarely interacted with but was clearly a better person than he for putting up with Tharja's nonsense.

"Laurent, isn't that Father headed this way?"

"Father, has something befallen you –"

Robin brushed past them both without a word or a sparing glance – and he immediately felt _bad_ about it but couldn't bring himself to stop. Even if the nature of his feelings for Miriel were conflicted, how he felt about Laurent and Morgan was not. Despite the shock and the doubts that had been his initial reaction (there was at least one another man in the Shepherds who shared his hair color and whom Miriel had been very interested in until the children showed up), Robin found that he cared very much for them both, to the point where he wouldn't hesitate to trade his life for one of theirs. But he couldn't deal with them now, not about this. Morgan and Laurent weren't blind to Tharja's attraction to their father, and he in turn was not blind to the tension this caused between his children and Noire.

The afternoon sun was starting to take its toll on him. Robin made his way over to the grassy part of the beach and sat under a tree. By this time, the beach had been cleared of all but the strongest bandits. More than a few of the Shepherds had become distracted from the battle and had begun partaking in more leisurely activities. Gaius and Cordelia were busy collecting seashells, while Chrom was attempting (and failing) to devise activities to impress his wife. Said wife was also collecting seashells with her children. (What was it with the Shepherds and collecting seashells?)

"Hee hee … There you are, Robin!"

The sound of the woman's voice was enough to put him in an unpleasant mood again. "Is this about the oil again?" he demanded.

"You really are clever!" she tittered. "How did you know?"

_Like you really haven't a clue._

"Well then, please begin rubbing it in when you're ready."

_You just won't take a hint, won't you?_

"And don't be afraid to put plenty on – you'll hear no complaints from me."

"That's enough."

Robin didn't realize the angry, bitter voice as his. Not at first. He didn't have to. All that he had kept to himself, all the stresses that had been building up since he had first become the Shepherds' tactician, everything had finally reached a breaking point and he couldn't have stopped it even if he wanted to.

Tharja seemed to be taken aback. "Robin? Is something the matter?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Tharja, because I know you're smarter than that." The words spilled out of his mouth, what little tact was usually present in his manner of speaking gone. "Have I _not_ made it _absolutely_ clear to you that I do _not_ appreciate you stalking me everywhere? What made you think that ignoring me on this was a good idea at all? What, that maybe one day I'd fall in love with you for some reason?" Robin paused for breath. "I don't like the idea of you watching every little thing that I do, having to worry about whether you're spying on me when I just want to be left alone … you creep me out to no end. But no, that's not even the worst part. And you know what is?"

His shouting was starting to attract the attention of the other Shepherds – including both of his kids, Chrom, Stahl, and Noire. But he didn't care. He wasn't finished. Oh, no, he was just getting started.

"You have. A daughter. With someone. Who is very clearly not me." He gestured briefly in Stahl and Noire's general direction. "Have you not _once_ considered how Stahl feels about all this? He proposed to you, and you accepted. _You accepted his proposal._ Clearly it was asking too much of you to be faithful to the guy you agreed to marry, right? And it's not just them. You _also_ knew that I had Laurent and Morgan with someone who was obviously not you. Is it too much to expect you to back off? That _maybe_, just _maybe, _it's time to move on because clearly we're never going to be together? I think you should really try it, and now would be a fine time to start!"

Chrom and Stahl appeared to be in shock. They both knew that their aloof tactician was rather blunt and not the type to sugarcoat his words, but neither had ever seen him lose his cool the way he just did. Noire was hiding behind her father, as if her mere presence would get Robin started on another angry rant. Laurent was struck speechless – this was a side of his father he had not expected to exist. But then he was reminded of a near-forgotten memory, from before his and his companions' excursion to the past, when he had blown up at Severa and how difficult she was being, and he found it less difficult to believe. Morgan, on the other hand, carefully hid a smile of glee. As terrible as she knew it sounded, and although Noire was a friend of hers, perhaps Noire's crazy mother would stop harassing her father now and leave their family in peace.

Robin didn't pause to look at their expressions, or at Tharja's. He merely pulled out his Arcthunder tome, stomped past his audience, and began shooting at the brigands that remained on the beach to vent out the rest of his frustration.

No one wanted to approach him, a wise decision. Chrom elected to ask someone else for help in making a seashell necklace for Olivia – perhaps Lissa would be a safer option? Stahl and Noire approached Tharja carefully, making sure that she was all right. Morgan pulled Laurent away, challenging him to a sandcastle-building contest, and Laurent did not protest for once.

!

Later in the evening, after the sun had set and all the bandits chased away from the beach, the Shepherds built a campfire and continued to enjoy the rest of their day on vacation. Miriel had passed out briefly from heatstroke during the battle, but had quickly recovered and was back to her usual self. Sumia, who had been with her when she had passed out, continued to hover over her, asking her if she was _certain _she was all right until Cordelia and Cynthia dragged her away and showed her all the seashells they had collected, which Sumia had missed out on.

Chrom, with the help of Lissa and Frederick, had successfully managed to create at least one seashell necklace that didn't get pulverized. Olivia blushed a deep red upon receiving the gift and shyly presented Chrom with a seashell belt that she, Lucina, and Inigo had made together. (Lucina, who shared her father's talent for smashing things, had crushed more than a few of the seashells her mother and brother had collected in frustration.)

Sitting apart from the others were Tharja, Stahl, and Noire. Tharja hadn't spoken at all since Robin had snapped at her earlier that day, but seemed to be listening to Stahl and Noire as they talked to her and attempted to lift her spirits. Robin had also separated himself from the rest of the army, but made sure to keep his distance from Tharja and was on the opposite side of the camp as her. Despite Morgan and Laurent's attempts to get him to join them and Miriel, he had to decline. His exasperation had yet to abate.

"Hey-o, Robin!" Henry's cheerful voice pierced the tranquility of his thoughts. And yet, Robin was too tired to be annoyed about losing his solitude. The fact that Henry was one of his closest friends probably helped. "Whatcha doing here all by yourself?" he asked, plopping down on the ground next to Robin.

"Good evening, Robin," Libra greeted, seating himself on the side that Henry had not taken. "You seemed to be troubled. Is something the matter?"

"Nya ha! Didn't you hear? He blew up at Tharja today!" Henry laughed. "Laurent was telling Gerome about it, and I happened to overhear! Of course, Gerome got all flustered and dragged Laurent away with him once he saw that I was listening in! Nya ha ha, that boy …" Henry had a fond look on his face at the mention of his son.

"Er, yes, I am aware of that …" Libra grimaced, his attempt at tactfully bringing up the incident ruined. His own son, Brady, who had first heard the news from Owain, had been the one to tell him. Maribelle had given him a brief lecture about how it was unbecoming of a nobleman and the son of her dear friend Lissa to be gossiping like commoners, but later confessed to Libra that she wasn't surprised that Robin had finally snapped.

"So I did. What of it?" Robin asked flatly. "I'm not sorry for what I said, so if you were hoping I'd apologize or … go talk things over with Tharja, you're wasting your time."

"That is not why we're here," Libra quickly assured him, while Henry merely giggled. "I will not judge you for your actions. But what in Naga's name could make you reach as such? Forgive me if it is not my place to say so, but is everything all right?"

"Yeah, nya ha! You've been more high-strung than you usually are, like you're about to explode! Ooh, do you think I'd explode too if I did the same?" Henry seemed a little too ecstatic at that thought.

Robin wisely decided not to comment on Henry's desire to spontaneously combust. "Are either of you all too surprised?" he said quietly. "Ever since Chrom found me in that field two years ago – and don't get me wrong, I am thankful that he took me in when I knew and remembered nothing. But it's been one conflict after another from that point on. And everyone expects me to be able to pull out miraculous strategies from out of nowhere and come out on top of everything."

"Your strategies have saved us many times," Libra replied. "Many of us may not be here without them. But at the same time, you feel pressured to always know what to do."

"I didn't ask for this, you know?" Robin looked up at the darkening sky, at the first stars shining bright, and went on, "Sometimes, I'm just tired of everyone and everything, just dealing with people. I get that I'm an important part of this army and all, but I just wish they'd all leave me alone."

"Hey! Remember the first time we talked?" Henry exclaimed just then. "I think you were hiding in the barracks, having a panic attack after getting out of a meeting with the war council! Nya ha ha, good times!"

Libra was better at expressing his sympathies than Henry was. "Your tactical skills are peerless, but you lack the ability to truly understand those you are leading," he said.

"That's … exactly it." Robin sighed. "I am _terrified_ of interacting with people. I don't know why. I just am. But my position as this army's tactician makes it _unavoidable._ I can get so annoyed and irritated by the smallest of things, unintentional things at that. Tharja just … she was just pushing all of my buttons, you know. Wouldn't give me my space … and how she just kept on bothering me even after she agreed to marry Stahl and all the kids started showing up … and this future they expect us to avert. It's just …" Robin let out a strangled scream.

"Hey, hey! You don't have to do this all by yourself!" Henry chimed in. "We're here too, you know! I wouldn't miss a second of this war. I'm gonna have lots of fun slinging spells at enemies!"

"If you ever feel the pressures as this army's tactician starting to overwhelm you, you can always talk to me," Libra said, smiling. "I'm your friend and I'm here for you."

"… Thanks guys." And Robin really meant it. Even the weird things that Henry said, he was just being comforting in his own odd way.

"Great! Now that that's settled, let's go join the others around the campfire!" Henry said. "It's starting to get chilly here! Brr!"

And with those words, Libra, Robin, and Henry went to join the rest of their companions. Chrom waved them over and scooted over to make space for Robin to sit between him and Miriel. Henry and Libra sat with their families. Even Tharja, Stahl, and Noire were enjoying the warmth of the fire with the others, although both Robin and Tharja avoided each other's eyes.

"Oh, Father! Look at all these seashells Cynthia and I collected!" Morgan said, shoving several sharp, broken, and pointy shells into his hands without warning – one of the shells slicing into his right palm and leaving a bleeding gash.

Chrom and most of the army burst into laughter as a horrified Laurent scolded his sister for being careless and immediately began fussing over the (obviously minor) wound. Miriel merely rolled her eyes at her children's antics, carefully hiding an amused smile, while Morgan apologized sheepishly and Henry attempted to talk Gerome into slashing open his palm with a sharp seashell.

Robin felt slightly annoyed at being the center of such a spectacle, but at the same time … it was kind of nice in a way to not have to worry about life-threatening battles and claiming victory in near-unwinnable situations. He had a feeling that such peace would be far in between. Might as well enjoy such times when he could.

!

A/N: I did not enjoy the avatar's non-married conversation with Tharja in Summer Scramble, I really didn't. The idea of Tharja, who could be married at this point, asking the avatar, who could also be married by then, to rub oil on her _and him agreeing to it_ really bothers me. If the avatar is female, I can understand it, but not when the avatar is male and at least one of them is married.

Also, Robin is only one of the various tacticians I will use in this story. He has his own personality. He's a pretty unsociable guy who merely tolerates most of the Shepherds, has yet to develop feelings for his future wife and the presence of the children is making him even more confused, and would rather be left alone. Not all the other tacticians will have the same relationships with the other characters as he does, I will attempt to make each other them as different from one another as possible.


End file.
